Some Shots In the Dark
by Amazonia
Summary: Each chapter will be a one-shot- and thus individually rated. I've just decided to put all these drabbles/challenges/? all into one collection, randomly. Beware Of Slash of the HD kind. Don't like? Don't look! Capesh? Good. Now Onward Into the Night!
1. The Endless Vacation

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any shape or form. Also, this will most likely all be SLASH...this is the only time this will be mentioned...you have been warned, so be it. It's rated at an M, I did this on purpose because I don't know how 'bad' my one-shots will get. NOW, on with this drabble because it appears my discailmer is longer than the actual writing...ENJOY! (also be brutally honest ;) ) **

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**The Endless Vacation **

"Let's travel."

Harry stared.

"I'm not running, Draco, not from them."

"We're not, we're going on vacation, how does that sound?"

"I'd rather not be Nott, but fine, let's. This is our last trip."

"A trip to remember."

"You're still one for dramatics? No one will even notice we're gone."

….

"I love you," they chorused.

"See you on the other side."

They smiled genuinely. It felt weird, doing that out in the open; but it was the last time, in mortality.

….

The Malfoy-Potters were found preserved in a desert fifty years later, still kissing and embracing. Cause of death: self-poison.


	2. The Teller of Fortune

**The Teller of Fortune**

_**By: Amazonia  
**_

The Boy Who Lived was still alive, but not living. And, as the days wore on and became the grays of winter, he began to loathe the prophecy and what it had made his life. Didn't the precious prophecy foretell that he was to LIVE after defeating Voldemort? He wasn't, he was surviving, just like before. What if he really didn't have to defeat him then? Couldn't he have forgotten all about it and lived, really lived? He had money; he could've traveled the world. Seen things that many people didn't get to see, done things, lived, loved, and been happy and merry, and all that other rubbish that meant you were living life to the fullest.

Ron and Hermione were married, each happily working jobs of choice- as Chudley Cannon's Keeper and an Unspeakable- and taking care of their baby girl, Lilliana. Neville was a medal-winning doctor at St. Mungo's for getting Harry healed, when many others couldn't, after the war. Ginny was a Curse-Breaker with her brother, Bill, in Egypt. She was due to marry Khalid, an Egyptian wizard and the third Curse-Breaker on her and Bill's team, in half a year. Harry, he just sat and stared out of a little window in the kitchen, watching the sky go from dark to light to summer to winter- a winter sunset.

He finally decided that he needed a second opinion on this prophecy...

--/\--

"Harry, dear!!" she squealed, like he'd asked her to the Yule ball, and jiggled her multi-colored bracelets raucously. "Won't everyone be after me now! I got Harry Potter to come see me. Didn't I prophesize this to Tabitha just a couple of days ago; I'll be rich in no time!!" 

Harry Obliviated her as he walked out of the bead flooded corner, just like he did the last five 'Seers' he went to. Maybe it was some kind of sign; maybe he should offer his services to the Muggle Obliviating Squad. If this happened once more, he would go to the Ministry straight afterwards and fill out an application. 

--/\--

"Oh, here we are, look in to the crystal ball, Mr. Potter. Carefully now, there it is." He looked and, after several minutes, saw two familiar bodies completely wrapped around each other, sleeping contently. He turned his eyes from the haunting image and focused them on the grain of the wooden table instead.

"It seems to me that the future is the most accurate in this ball, sir," the graying witch said with a small smile. This was the seventh crystal ball they had tried. Every time she had found an image, she had shaken her head, pulled that ball off the stand, and rummaged some more until she got to this one. It was clear, forest green crystal with swirls of silver metal going through it. It was beautiful and Harry had felt a connection immediately, much like he had with his wand in Ollivanders during his first day in the magical world. But this one felt like a warm buzzing in his heart; it was a very comforting way to feel alive.

"It's the love of another and your love in return that you seek, only when you achieve that will you be able to truly live fully," she continued and smiled secretly, albeit a little sadly, at Harry. He could only see what a non-gifted sees, and so he could not see the halos around their heads: a sign of death. The white silk they were curled around signaled happiness in the afterlife, and for that she was thankful. This young man needed happiness, even if it was in his impending death, for she had felt the heaviness of his soul pervading her senses when she saw his lost image in her mind.

Harry smiled bitterly; she was a Seer all right. He hadn't even told her what he was there for. When he had walked into the room she was already gathering materials and telling him to sit, without even turning around. It seemed that he would not live. He paid her, against kind insistence not to, and thanked her dearly. She looked sad, and he believed that she knew this part, and his subsequent predicament because of it, too. He left the modern building in tears, his heart breaking for him, and them, all over again, with every step.

Draco Malfoy was dead.


	3. Got Milk

Chapter Title: Got Milk  
Characters: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy and Various Younguns Who Are Mine  
Genres: Challenge Response, General, Humour, One Shot  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Adult Language

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy or most of the Dursley family [thank god for the last one] but the plot is mine and JKR can't have it! :P There!**_

_Summary: Harry will never be late again! But why?_

_The May 2007 response challenge for Hex: One (or both) of the boys is a professor at Hogwarts. Harry or Draco teaches Muggle Studies! At least 400 words, including the phrase: That's a rather disturbing moustache. _

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**Got Milk**

"All right, class, settle down," Draco, or Professor Potter-Malfoy, said to his Muggle Studies class that morning.

They were uncharacteristically rowdy this morning. Usually he was greeted with half-lidded eyes and zombie-like gaiting. But today he'd promised that they'd actually get to do something Muggle for a change, instead of just reading about it. That's why they were anxious and exited. Well, that, and he'd promised that he'd bring in Harry Malfoy-Potter in for a demonstration and his expert knowledge on Muggle sports.

Draco wondered where Harry was. He'd left their flat a half an hour ago and Harry was in the shower. He never stayed long in there unless he was… _Damn_, Draco thought, _being late would have been worth it for that._

He was broken out of his unprofessional-work-environment thoughts by one of his students raising her hand. He shifted in his seat, glad for the concealing desk, and nodded at Molly to ask her question.

"Professor Malfoy, can you explain some more what tetanus is, exactly?"

"It's not tetanus, you dumb arse, it's Tetris," Andrew sneered.

"Don't call her a dumb arse, dumb arse, it's _tennis_," Riley said, shooting his almost-girlfriend a winning smile while she blushed.

"Okay, no one is a dumb arse," Draco said, standing up and rolling his eyes at Riley's antics and the roomful of shocked faces he got for his language. Good, that's why he didn't curse often, so when he did they'd all pay attention. "Riley is right, though, it's tennis." The class snickered, knowing that one of their favorite professors wasn't angry with them.

Feigning ignorance for their sakes, he fumbled his explanation. "From what I understood when Harry-" here he got more giggling, especially from the girls "- _Mr. Potter_ told me about tennis, it's a two person game, or he said you could play with four people. It's got balls and two rackets, or four, depending. You have to grip the handle firmly; I guess you grip it a lot like if you were holding on to your broomsticks, hold the ball… or was it balls. I can't really remember all the details. Anyway…"

At this point he was stopped from further explanation as the successor of the Weasley twins interrupted him. His loud guffaws and red face were an indication of just how long he'd been holding his amusement in.

"And, pray, what is so amusing, Mr. Dursley?"

Between deep breaths and laughing coughs, Benjamin Dursley, the adopted son of Neville Longbottom, answered, "Balls… two person game… firm grip…broomsticks!" He continued laughing, oblivious to the tight lips of his professor, the gaping looks of his classmates and his boyfriend's anxious poking.

He was saved, nonetheless, by the chiming of Draco's Floo. His long-awaited special guest had finally arrived. Another roomful of shocked faces, including Draco's, materialized.

"What?" Harry asked, perplexed, and looked himself over. He didn't see anything unfamiliarly shocking about how sooty he was. He dusted himself off and looked back at Draco, whose eyes and lips were smirking, in question.

"That's a rather disturbing moustache, love," Draco drawled, arms crossed in amusement. He conjured up a mirror for Harry and levitated it over to him. On Harry's face, his upper lip actually, there was a milk moustache with tiny flecks of soot. The milk was slowly dribbling over both sides of Harry's lips as they furrowed in a slight frown.

"Ah, sorry, was in a bit of a hurry coming this morning, I suppose," Harry mumbled and blushed as he put the mirror down and grinned sheepishly at his husband, realizing his accidental slip of tongue.

Draco gave him a knowing, leering look and smiled. Harry's blush increased in intensity as he hurriedly wiped the milk off his top lip away with the tips of his fingers. The class finally broke out of their shock and burst out laughing.

"What now? Have I smeared it on my cheek?" Harry sighed, picking the mirror up off the fireplace mantel.

"Oh, another disturbing moustache," he said, observing the soot moustache he'd gotten when he wiped away the milk one with his fingers, obviously still unclean from brushing the soot off his clothes not five minutes ago.

"Well, at least it matches with you better this time," Draco said, eyes twinkling as they looked from Harry's hair to his upper lip. This was the best payback ever for what Harry had done to him. He didn't even have to get his hands dirty, so to speak, by doing anything himself; Harry had done quite an excellent job of that _alone_. That would teach him not to take too long in the shower unless Draco was with him.

That night, after a day full of teasing Harry by manhandling the tennis equipment for further punishment, Harry and Draco played Ben's form of tennis in their flat - a room full of loves and forty-loves - with moaned promises that Harry would never again have a milk moustache in his presence because he was 'in a hurry.'


End file.
